


day seven

by fishysama



Series: goretober 2020!!! [12]
Category: Junjou Romantica, Ringu | The Ring - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Goretober, Goretober 2020, Horror, Implied Relationships, Scary Movies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27067486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishysama/pseuds/fishysama
Summary: goretober day 12: horror movie characters (samara 😊😊)misaki finished his finals.
Series: goretober 2020!!! [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950796
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	day seven

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this based on the american ring (2002) rather than ringu bc im more familiar with it 😔

Misaki watches a rerun of his favorite  _ Za _ ☆ _ Kan _ movie, hand buried in a half-empty potato chip bag. Finals had just finished but, he had too many energy drinks to take a well-deserved nap. So, he spends the rest of the afternoon watching reruns, exhausted yet vibrating with energy.

His last exam wasn’t an exam, but a group presentation. It would have been his least favorite thing if it wasn’t on one of his favorite subjects: horror, thrillers, and murder mysteries. If his  _ Modern Entertainment _ class hadn’t presented that option, he would have dropped it as soon as he got the syllabus. Sure, exams were terrible for his unfocusable mind, but presentations were an instant dealbreaker.

Still, he went through with it, trying to find underground short horror films to add to his presentation. After some intensive research ( _ second _ page of Google results), he found the perfect one. For how sketchy the website was, it did have an incredibly abstract and, most importantly, bone-chilling short film. The stunning visuals made Misaki’s skin crawl, even as a devout horror fan: a dead horse in water, impossible, nauseating lighting, maggots, potentially a real finger being punctured by a nail? The most unsettling, though, was the last still frame of a well, deep in the woods. For as simple as it was, reminiscing on it made his stomach fill with dread.

He didn’t think much of the phone call. “Seven days.” What is he supposed to make of that?

So he freaked his lecture hall out, even some of his teammates shaking their knobby knees. Cellphones all going off in unison. Yes, that was modern. That was the new, abstract horror. Misaki’s proud of himself almost, now that the whole ordeal is done. He finally exposed his classmates to the world of true, deep horror.

And now he can indulge in his pride by unwinding with some chips and his favorite series, no classes until September. Yes, he relaxes. Until the screen turns to straight static. Misaki flinches for a moment, turning his head to the window. There’s no storm. No explanation.

_ Seven days. _

“Usagi-san—?” Misaki calls up to Akihiko’s office, not wanting to disturb his work but also unable to breathe suddenly. The same chill goes up his spine as the one a week ago, gazing at the stone well. “I think the Wi-Fi might’ve gone out! Do you mind if I reboot it?”

No response from upstairs. Misaki wouldn’t be surprised if he fell asleep at his desk again. His wipes his salt-coated hands on his sweatpants before—

The picture of the well. Misaki freezes, doing an odd half-squat over the sofa. Not just  _ a _ well,  _ the _ well. The fog radiating from the earth. He sits back down, paralyzed with shock.  _ Seven days. _ A pair of slender, cotton fingers grip the well’s edge. A curtain of black hair.

Misaki watches, his mouth hanging open. This… wasn’t in the video.  _ This isn’t real, _ he pinches himself,  _ this isn’t real. _ But it is; his skin stings. Another hand reaches over the edge, a full form in a white, muddied robe. Faceless. She climbs out of the well. She walks forward. Her porcelain limbs dangle like a doll’s.

Misaki’s senses tell him to get away, but there’s no reason. She’s in the television. She’s in the television until her fingers reach through to the other side, as muddied and wet and blue-tinged as they were within the four walls. It’s only then that Misaki dares to run, heart going from still to in his throat with just one disobedience of a glass screen. An unbreakable rule of horror. He scrambles off the couch, “Usagi!” half-stuck in his throat, half-released in a desperate plea.

When he looks back, she’s right behind him, standing upright. He can see, suddenly, the pruning of her skin. The deep blue veins of her arms.

He bolts up the stairs, panting and too frightened to scream or turn back or bargain. He needs to get to the office. Needs to get to— A cold hand on his wrist. “U-Usagi-san?”

“Misaki? Did you say something?”

“What’s with all this water on the ground?”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://juroguro.tumblr.com/)


End file.
